A marriage to condone
by littlegreengirl
Summary: He hopes to grow used to it because he'll never be like his father, he'll stick by this woman and maybe it won't be so bad. ..since this woman is unlike any other.  T for married Life in general
1. An outrageous proposition

And so came the day, or rather so came what comes after the charade and pretty lying faces. The wedding has passed, the ceremony for everyone to see is over, the sharing of sake and the need to not under any circumstance lose face has passed.

Now there is only one man, one woman, one room.

Tomorrow the act must be up again, scrutiny, they'll smell it on her, him on her so the consummating of the bond must happen this night.

Despite herself she feels her heartbeat quicken, not so much because of her virgin nature or nervousness over the impending carnality with this man she does not know, may never know. No, for the first time she'll be allowed to explore as she wants, and she'll ask the outrageous, knowing his nature.

She spares a glance to her newlywed spouse and finds, just like most other times, unwilling to look away. The man is pretty, far prettier than she and stripped of his armour he looks no less intimidating as he did before.

What will he think of her proposition? His eyes tell her nothing of what he thinks, only that he is indeed thinking, always.

"Who starts then?" the sound break the silence as stone on glass and she moves to the lone bedding and sits, waiting, presenting, expectant.

He moves as well, albeit with more grace, though she expects no less from him at this time as any. Briefly she wonders if he moves because he thinks he must, or if he wants to.

Face to face at last and oh so close she decides it's time to ask, now or never. It's audacious and it makes her tremble ever so slightly, with excitement that makes the mouth dry.

Who will make the first move? Breaths mingle with even intervals, mix and then become breath again, she isn't moving and he isn't either.

"How familiar are you with this subject?" searching eyes lock onto his firm ones and it's obvious she isn't asking out of curiosity or jealousy as most other women might, no, she _wants_ something with that sentence, an ulterior motive lurks in her eyes. She hopes he'll bite anyways despite the fact that they both know he isn't so easily fooled he doesn't see that glint.

"What of it?" is the answer she gets and she knows it is the only one she'll receive.

"I was thinking" she starts, knowing to tread carefully "that considering your many, advantages" and there are many indeed, though she knows not how inclined he is to see them "I would like to ask but a single favour of you, at this time."

He seems apprehensive at this, she truly doesn't blame him.

And yet he takes the bait "what is that favour?"

She takes a single, steadying breath before continuing "It is to just this once, this being the first, be the one that takes the lead in this."

Silence falls upon the room, as if even the volume of breathing has dropped and it helps in letting the sounds of the night just outside that screen door to come in.

Once again she can't tell, not even a single indication of what he might say is revealed so she must wait until he speaks, though he might never.

The faint light of the moon is enough to see for their youkai eyes despite leaving most of the room in shadow.

After only a moment, he inclines his head and sits back, awaiting her response.

At first she can do nothing, astonished she can only stare her mind in a complete state of incredulousness, dumbfounded that he actually agreed. That he would allow such a thing.

Then her consciousness finally kicks into gear and she realizes that indeed, before her sits her newlywed spouse and husband, Lord and commander of the Inuyoukai of the west, completely hers for the taking and at the mercy of her every whim. Though just for tonight.

Shivers run down her spine as her pupils dilate, this is excitement she never knew she could feel. Suddenly she is hit with the realization that she isn't as well versed in this as she'd like, and her clumsiness will no doubt show and it makes her doubt for only a second though not more, this is a chance she'll never pass up on.

Slowly she reaches out to touch the fabric that encases his flesh, runs her lithe fingers down the seam crossing his chest. Tucking the thin yet powerful appendages under the crease she runs them up again until she reaches his neck.

She repeats this process with every knot, fold and seam she can find until she's satisfied she knows where to begin when the time comes to remove the clothing from him.

Silk rustles as she moves to sit straddling his crossed legs, she needs to be closer to explore thoroughly. Then, resting her bowed head just below his chin, she stops all movement.

"Suddenly had a change of heart?" he asks and it's hard to tell if it's mockery or sincerity, she is close enough to feel the rumble, and thanks to her heightened sight even see it to some degree as it emanates from his chest.

"No" she says, picking up a lean, milky white hand adorned with markings "I was simply at a loss for where to begin" she traces the markings with feather light touch and spreads his fingers while gazing at them with a strange sense of fascination "there are so many options after all."

Deciding that it'll be far more fun to do the exploring without the fabric covering her line of sight she starts gently pulling at a the knot that'll free him of the first layer of clothing.

Slowly the knot unravels and she makes sure to lay the strings down carefully before tucking her fingers under the final knot and pulling ever so slightly, relishing in the sound the fine silk makes as she pulls.

Once again she folds the thin digits under the fabric that makes up the outermost layer and with outmost patience slides it down his firm shoulders to his muscular arms and finally over his hands freeing him of the garment altogether.

The whole process is excruciatingly slow and now she'll repeat it again and again until not a single string of silk is left on him. If he is annoyed by this he makes no move to show it.

She takes much delight in listening to his heartbeat echo in the cavity of his well-toned chest as she reaches behind him to undo the obi, taking great care in folding it neatly as it loosens from his waist.

As she places the obi on the floor he speaks, it's deep, low voice "why are you moving so slowly?" and she can almost swear there is a hint of actual curiosity in there somewhere.

Never stopping her hands as she starts with his kimono she answers, reminiscent "mother said once, that intimacy is a rare gift and should be unwrapped accordingly" she is so focused on her task she misses him cock an eyebrow "though personally I've always been for taking my time when given the chance."

Now free of any visual obstacles she leans back to observe her work with a contented smirk for a moment. Ah yes, his white skin really almost glows in the faint light and she almost finds herself jealous of the man, now her man, for having a better complexion than her.

Then again, if she herself was pretty she doubts she'd appreciate the apparition that is him so much.

Indeed, she knows she's not pretty in the common sense of the word. She lacks most of those qualities.

Where pretty women's eyes are large, deer ones hers are small and sleepy. Where gorgeous women's hair is long and silken hers is cropped short and whisks wildly in every direction. Where beautiful women's skins are lustrous ivory hers is tanned with summer sun and thick from hunting and fighting, not to mention adorned with a fair collection of scars. Where sweet women's lips are plump and pouty hers are small and thin.

The list goes on and on but she doesn't fret. She never has. The least now when all those qualities that makes a partner a joy on the eyes are found on the one before her.

This way she'll never have the need to stare herself in the mirror as she's seen so many, stupid, ladies do because she'll stare at another face and never will she be questioned or reprimanded for it.

And she's never given any care for her appearance anyways, but that doesn't mean she hasn't the mind to appreciate beauty.

Long silken strands, porcelain skin, thin brows and long lashes. She has the urge to trace these features and drag her fingers through those silver locks but reminds herself it's yet time for that.

Full lips, long neck and a body that screams of battles long since won, she makes a point of remembering each feature well, who knows if he'll ever spend the night with her again, after all, she just can't fathom him having such an. . . appetite.


	2. High class dealings

The wedding had been a farce she'd never seen the like of before.

All prettying up and smiles that split the faces in such a way she might just think they'd split completely at any moment to reveal the monstrous quality that lies hidden.

Really, trying to make her pretty for her husband to be, like it was possible in any measure to make her like so. And if the rumours are indeed true, that the man looks like his mother whom by all means is the picture of beauty herself. . .

Although her personality certainly leaves for a measure of improvement.

Well why should she bother competing?

A woman needs to be pretty for her wedding day, her father had said, even if it's just for that day only.

At any rate it turned out just the way she figured it would, with nothing but high class fakers and idiots dancing about each other like their lives depended on it. It reminded her of poultry. Nothing could possibly make her long for her solitary mountains more.

Trying to daydream about them however seemed impossible since every lady (and there were indeed many) was competing with whom could wear the most intricate and luxurious kimono pattern. And they were all giggling, like little girls, oh how it grated her nerves to hear that incessant sound.

Of course it was also impertinent that she meet and greet them all. Every. Single. One. Of them.

After naught more than a few minutes of having to present herself to these people who looked at her like she's some kind of mutt. Which is just outrageous because she can certainly beat most of them in combat should she want to. It came as a relief that she was getting married since it meant at least two hours of preparation in which she'd not be obliged to interact with anyone.

The sound of all voices combined made her happy she wasn't outside in the courtyard but inside in the room reserved for the bride until the ceremony. Not that her excellent hearing didn't allow for her hearing them just fine anyways but at least she was shielded from seeing them at this time, preferably she would rather never had laid eyes on them at all.

Lowland folk are nothing like mountain dogs such as her. If this is what high class means she doesn't really want to be a part of it.


	3. A bride's troubles

Hush settles over the crowd and she draws a sigh of well needed relief until she feels it. It's the presence that caused the silence and an impressive one at that, so much in fact she mentally slaps herself for not noticing it sooner.

Well whoever it is she'll make damned sure to thank them later for shutting everyone up by just being there. Heh, technically that person has just `been there for her` and that thought is an example of what everyone she knows would call her notoriously bad sense of humour.

Who could it be though? She finds herself curious but a single glance at the old maid currently busy with fastening one layer of what is her wedding kimono tells her she's not allowed to take a single step towards finding out.

It's just a little bit vexing and she grinds her teeth to show it and gets a murderous glare from another old maid surveying the obi that will be tied around her waist as soon as the first one is done. Okay, so gritting teeth is a big no-no.

Man, maids sure can be scary but it goes without saying she likes them more than the people outside. She wishes she'd had old maids so it could've been like this always, then again, if her family been such to take maids she'd probably grown up to be such a person she wouldn't have liked them.

Turns out, and that to her delight, that whomever the presence belongs to has decided to come closer of their own accord and thus her curiosity will be satisfied anyways, she's really starting to like this person.

As it enters the building she can easily smell it's a male, well that's a shocker, or not, she can't decide. Either way she's so giddy about this person relieving her of all her previous troubles she can just feel the goofy grin spread.

The man smacks the screen door open with a force you think would break it, it doesn't break however, and let's his eyes skim over everything in the room before giving her an extra second of staring and oh great spirits she had no idea the gods made men that pretty and she's sure her face is still adorned with that goofy grin and it's far too late to wipe it off and maybe it's rude to smile at strange men at your own wedding and just like that he smacks the door closed again and he's gone.

The old maids grumble as they continue their tasks, the one that was just fingering the, to her, overly intricate obi is now attempting to tame her unruly hair but quickly, and wisely decides that it's probably best to just cover it with the white cap later.

It soon becomes apparent from their otherworldly low volume grumbling that the man just now, if beauty had a face, was the Sesshomaru guy she's supposed to marry and that it's certainly not in any way okay for him to just storm in here like he owns the place, though he does, and seeing the bride before the ceremony and all.

At least at their first meeting she greeted him with a smile. Now her dad can have one less thing to worry about.

Honestly, he has been worried about everything. That she's not pretty enough, that she'll stumble, that she'll somehow end up offending everyone and anyone and so on and so forth. Sometimes she'd wish he'd have more confidence in her, after all her mother, whom she happens to resemble a great deal, managed to get married just fine and that marriage turned out a wonderful one.

Of course, when she mentioned this to him he simply scoffed and said that her mother didn't marry the commander.

Tying an obi as it turns out is an excellent way to knock the wind out of someone and make sure it never gets back in. It dawns in her that she'll have to sit like this, her face itchy from having makeup plastered on it, her head hurting from the futile attempts at giving her a nice hairdo and not being able to take even a full quarter of a breath for the whole ceremony until the reception.

She's going to die.


	4. Unpleasant Pleasantries

Unpleasant Pleasantries

He was, unhappy.

Not that he made it a habit to identify his own emotions or even to feel them but this, is most definitely being unhappy.

Here he sat, now bound to a female he had first laid eyes upon or indeed even heard of the existence of but today.

Naturally his mother was the culprit, he laments now for not seeing it sooner. She had nagged him for years about a wife and grandchildren, especially grandchildren. He had never taken to this nagging as a threat though. A mistake.

And of course the sneaky bitch had kept it from him for as long as possible that she had given him away, like some common female, to another family for marriage. All that time acting as if it was his own wish to begin with.

So naturally, being called to the castle for a 'talk' he remembered the last time and was on more guard than usual. The place was disgustingly crowded. Not a good sign.

The news however threw his mind away for a bit and he was dangerously close to going slack jawed. The two narrowed eyes and glared at each other, his mother with a triumphant grin. He had been seen entering the castle by most who knew what was to happen here this day. A perfect trap and he'd been caught.

He could kill her for it.

The question remained, what sort of woman had his mother chosen for him? Truly he'd not met many who rose to any sort of standard. He was better than them in any way regardless. And what he saw when he entered the room was, unexpected. She held not the air of someone raised noble and she smelled still, despite the bath, of forest mulch and fresh trees. The slight confusion over her origins however was soon thwarted by that grin adorning her below-par face.

Just another idiot after his power, and not even pretty at that, and this he would have to put up with for the centuries to come? She was nowhere near worth a single shred of his attentions.


End file.
